Overboard

The second night Luis made a point of being in the ballroom during the dance show, which might have been a mistake because then he had to go into the service kitchen to hyperventilate again. Ricky and Anya did three numbers. One was a flirty and dirty Argentine tango, the second a swoony thing to ‘Si Tu Supieras’ (one of Luis’ favorite songs), and the third was their version of the Dirty Dancing ‘Time of My Life’ mambo. Anya had a different costume for each routine. Ricky gradually shed clothing, starting out in a tux, then losing the jacket to dance in his vest, and finally losing the vest and tie. Opening the collar of his shirt and rolling up his sleeves while he walked around the floor, making conversation with the people lucky enough to be sitting nearby, as he waited for Anya to return. That is so not fair, Luis thought from behind the kitchen door. You are so fucking gorgeous.

One of the servers came through and caught him. “You okay, Luis?”

“That guy is rocking my world. I’m like, if I throw money will you take your pants off too?” The server laughed. Luis made a ‘really’ face. “I had to come back here so nobody would see me fanning myself.”

“Quite a few of us feel the same way, if it makes you feel any better. Last year’s teacher was really popular, but this show is terrific. People are ordering drinks by the gallon.”

“Yeah, I noticed, I’d better get back out there. We can probably unload the whole bottom shelf if I get busy.” She laughed again and went past him to pick up another tray of desserts.

Then on Sunday afternoon, when the ship was on its way back to port, the dancers were off duty, and so was Luis, he tracked them down to one of the satellite bars. The big guy was talking to the bartender with an air of expertise. Ricky and Anya were on the tiny dance floor, working up a new routine, from the look of it. Ricky was singing under his breath, an ABBA song. He was exactly as mouthwatering as he’d been the night before: wavy black hair, eyelashes so extreme it looked like he was wearing eyeliner, early signs of five o’clock shadow. High cheekbones, strong jaw, straight nose. Catlike, unconscious grace. Luis watched, fascinated. He apparently said something, or did something, because the big guy said, “He’s single, you know.”

Luis almost cracked up again. I’m so obvious. He went to the music system and found the song, playing it for them so they could keep dancing and he could keep watching. Sometime while that was happening, the ship docked. Then there was a little back and forth that concluded with names and business cards being exchanged. Anya and the big guy - Terry - got their gear and went off together. Ricky hung back in the bar for a minute. It seemed like he was waiting for the ship’s bartender to leave. Luis shot the guy a look, and in another minute he was alone with the dancer. Then he couldn’t think of anything to say.

Ricky was a little amused. It was clear the pretty wine guy wanted to suggest something, and obviously that couldn’t be on the ship. After a minute he said, “You want to go get a drink?”

Luis heard ‘somewhere else’ and huffed out a breath. “God, do I ever.”

“What’s good around here?” Ricky was smiling now.

“Nothing. I live in San Pedro and I can assure you, nothing. Is Terranea too far?”

“No, that’s fine.”  Ricky didn’t mention that he lived in the other direction, in downtown L.A. He liked this guy’s face, and the way he’d been so discreet. And he didn’t have anywhere else to be. So they collected their luggage and went out, not obviously together, but at the same time. Luis had taken an Uber to the dock, so they both went to Ricky’s car, and he drove them up the peninsula to the cliff-top restaurant. The sun was starting its descent as they arrived. They went to the lounge that had an ocean view. Ricky asked, “Do you ever get tired of looking at it?”

“Not really. I’m indoors most of the time, on board ship.”

“I can’t see the ocean from where I live. Never saw the ocean at all until I left home.”

“For college?”

“No, I was sixteen.” Ricky didn’t elaborate. A server came to get their drink order, and they sat watching the horizon till she came back. They’d chosen a lounge table with two club chairs, not across from each other but at right angles, so they could look out the window or look at each other without being awkward or uncomfortable.

“So I have a confession,” said Luis once they had their drinks. Ricky glanced over at him, eyebrows up. “I knew who you were. I’m a fan.”

“How’d you hear about me?” He was smiling a little, not even aware that he was studying the fine planes of Luis’ face as if there was about to be a test.

Luis was aware. It gave him a thrill.